Book by Lawrence D. Cohen
Music by Michael Gore
Lyrics by Dean Pitchford
Directed by Stafford Arima
Starring Marrin Mazzie and Molly Ranson
A Production of MCC Theatre
at the Theatre de Lys

The
relative success or failure of MCC's revival of Carrie,
the musical version of the early Stephen King novel, is to some degree in the eye of the
beholder. The original production was every bit the clueless extravaganza
history makes it out to be, as if Springtime for Hitler had superseded
Oklahoma! as the game changer of the 20th Century. But in his desire to rescue
the material from the clutches of a staging that made every possible wrong
choice, director Stafford Arima
has both given legitimacy to its sincerity of intent and exposed the limited
toolkit—or maybe it’s just the limited savvy—of its creative team
(in particular the songwriting team of lyricist Dean Pitchford and composer Michael Gore; librettist Lawrence D. Cohen fares somewhat better in having fashioned a
reasonably solidly structured adaptation). I won’t summarize the story here: I
assume its general outline is by now part of the Zeitgeist. But I’ll include a
reminder that it’s dark—hinging upon the relationship between the teenage
girl of the title (Molly Ranson),
constantly belittled by most of her high school peers, who comes from a
background of severe and perverse religious suppression and is just entering
womanhood; and her single Mom (Marin Mazzie), who is the purveyor of the crippling
fanaticism. And a reminder that it’s supernatural: Carrie has telekinetic
powers that emerge when she is angry…and that the story is one long build to a
circumstance wherein sudden long-pent-up rage unleashes their full force.

Making
effective use of the Theatre de Lys' smaller off-Broadway stage, removing the
scenic design from anything too presentational, coming up with a poetic (rather
than literal) scenic solution to the story's most Grand Guignol and climactic
sequence, Mr. Arima means business; and he directs his cast to play for real
stakes, and they've been cast, costumed, made up to project as much
verisimilitude and authenticity as the artificial construct of musical theatre
permits.

But
now the musical sends an even more bifurcated signal because of it. For while
the authors have written sincerely and without (intentional) camp, they've also
written with a facile slickness of expression, unwitting proponents of the
school that believes if a colloquial cliche has not previously been set to
music, it somehow becomes less a cliche when sung. This isn't merely limited to
appropriating titles(e.g.
as
Sondheim has done with "familiarisms" such as "Now You
Know" and "Have I Got a Girl for You" and "You Must Meet My
Wife" which he uses to ironic purpose or whose familiarity becomes a
point
of departure for original variation) but to the entire content of songs
themselves, so that most of what's sung seems to announce its purpose
anthemically or be a philosophical collection of Hallmark-like
homilies, with
facile (and not unattractive) music, most drawn from a palate of
familiar
pop-rock tropes, to match. And of course that undercuts the story's
grittier
side and blunts its edge. (Perversely, the thing that's missing most
from the adaptation is the unique voice, imprimatur and influence of
Stephen King.)

Subsequently
there are still moments—though FAR fewer than before—that elicit
unintended laughter, due to the actors playing conspicuously and
self-consciously "written" material with the sincerity of verite
humanism. (I hasten to add, I'm not saying the writers are untalented or
without skill. Carrie is
always at least competent and always at least clear. None of which is minor or
easy to achieve, let alone maintain. What I am saying, though, is that the
writers don't have a sufficiently refined ear for tone, and seem oblivious to
the unsubtle "tells" that betray…to be candid…remarkable naiveté
about it.)

Still…what
has been achieved here is significant enough renovation to have made Carrie one of the season’s most anticipated curiosities; and
enough to have transporter-beamed it out of the Biggest Disasters sandbox. It will
enter the literature—never
as a classic, but as a piece that now has enough of a seal of approval to be
mounted in other venues, by other companies, and in stock and amateur
environments as well. The Stephen King brand, and the off-Broadway testimony
that it can be delivered with relative simplicity, will carry a lot more weight
than any of its innate silliness. And you know what? Short of having a hit,
that’s the game. Keeping the work alive.